(clap, clap, clap, clap) Deep In The Heart Of Texas

I hear they have grocery stores in Houston. That’s good to know. It would be tough to get my little cooler of hummus, broccoli, string cheese, Greek yogurt and eggs through airport security. They’d probably frown on my bottles of balsamic vinegar and olive oil, too.

Larry’s mother passed away on Monday after a 10-year battle with Alzheimer’s, and so we will go tomorrow to Texas for her wake and funeral. The only good thing about funerals is they bring together people you haven’t seen in a long time. Sure, there will be tears, but there will be plenty of laughter, too. Lillian’s family knows how to celebrate life.

I’ll be gone for four days. I haven’t been out of my routine that long since last summer when I traveled across Minnesota visiting friends and family and living out of a suitcase and Styrofoam cooler. However, instead of freak out, I’m going to chillax. Yes, me. I’m going to chillax.

I’m bringing along my Therabands in case I get some time for rehab on Sunday or Monday. But if they sit untouched at the bottom of my suitcase, I won’t sweat it (literarily or figuratively). If I get to take a walk in the mornings before it becomes Africa hot, great. If not, no problem. (By the way, I think it should be illegal for anyone to die in Texas in July. No matter how hard I try, I will not be able to avert a total hair disaster this weekend. Even Texas doesn’t have enough hairspray.)

Why the relaxing of the sphincter? Because, in the words of the Buddha, I’m choosing to not “add to my suffering” by fussing over the things I can’t change like the weather and the schedule. I need to see people and be places at certain times for four days, and so I’ll see what happens moment by moment. As long as I get to a grocery store to have some go-to foods at my brother-in-law’s, I’ll be just fine. (Full disclosure: If you could hear the inflection in my voice, you’d realize this is a quasi self-pep-talk and not quite a statement of fact.)

So there you go. I’m traveling without food (although I am packing a jar of PB2 and some stevia packets) and am pretty sure I will not come home weighing 170 pounds more than I do now. Besides, I’ve been away from home enough times since reaching goal two years ago to know that I typically lose weight when I’m away, which would be a bonus considering I have a nagging two pounds that don’t seem to want to go away this summer. But again, if I come home weighing the same or a little more, I’ll simply buckle down when I get home and get rid of them. And that’s not a pep-talk. That’s the truth.

So Texas and all your heat and humidity, here I come. I wish it was under better circumstances that we meet again (and perhaps, oh, DECEMBER), but we’ve got some celebrating to do.

I’ll check in with ya’ll (I’m practicing) next week if not sooner (just in case I need a pep talk from all of you).

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